Steve McHugh - Born of Hatred

Peter let out a scream of agony as I pulled the dagger out and plunged it up into his stomach. I tried to get away from him, but he grabbed my arm and head-butted me before I took a step, breaking my nose.

Peter grunted with pain as he removed the dagger from his gut. "Someone likes to play with knives," he said and grabbed my hand, forcing it onto the remains of the table, before driving the blade through the hand and pinning it to the wood.

I yelled out as the silver burned my hand, both inside and out, and tried to use my free hand to pull it out, but Peter kicked my arm away and then stomped on my hand when it touched the floor. Over and over again he brought all of his force down through his booted foot and onto my hand, breaking bones and snapping tendons until it was a raw, bloody mess. Only then did he remove the knife from my other hand; the burning sensation creating a whole new kind of pain as blood pumped freely from the wound.

I dragged my ruined hands onto my lap and tried not to think about the agony, or about having Kasey watch me die.

Peter kicked me in the head, knocking me to the floor and causing darkness to appear at the edges of my vision. But he hadn't finished. He grabbed me by the front of my shirt and smashed my face into the already broken table, before flinging me across the room and into the far wall, where I fell to the floor next to a terrified Kasey.

She stood in front of me. "Stop it," she shouted. "Leave him alone."

Peter watched her with a mixture of amusement and disdain. Kasey was twelve years old, with no powers or weapons and no training, yet she still stood up to one of the most evil and powerful things on earth. She was so much like her father.

Tears fell from my eyes. I was not about to let a young girl get hurt to protect me and I forced myself back to a kneeling position.

Kasey glanced down at me and was suddenly trying to help me to my feet, placing one of my arms around her thin shoulders and trying to lift me up.

Peter's laughter filled the room and I tried to warn Kasey, but my jaw was broken and the words wouldn't form properly. Peter rushed across the room and tossed Kasey aside into one of the windows, which splintered from the impact. She fell to the floor limp, and unmoving.

"I guess that solves that problem," he said and started laughing again as I collapsed back to the floor, and he walked off to the far end of the room, opening the blinds to look down on the battlefield far below.

Without warning, Peter clutched his chest and collapsed to his knees, screaming out in pain as somewhere in the bowels of the building, his last ghoul died.

If I could have moved my face, I would have smiled. Instead, I felt the surge of energy, as my magic rushed back into me like a tsunami. My body immediately started to heal itself, but I remained motionless as I searched for a spirit to absorb using the technique that Sky had taught me. It wouldn't be long before Sky and Olivia reached me, I only had to hold Peter off for a few minutes.

I have no idea how long I remained like that, trying to find a spirit. A lot of people had died here today, so I knew they were there. I could almost sense them, but that was all I could do. I tried so hard to absorb one like I had when I'd fought Randal, but I couldn't get it to work.

And then something happened. I'd tried searching further outside the top floor, desperate to find anything that could help, when I felt it. The spirit was angry, hurt and full of pain and grief. I could feel its emotions as a coldness started inside my stomach and soon filled me entirely. I was just beginning to accept what was happening, when I realised that it wasn't one spirit filling me, it was two. The two agents I'd found on the stairway, their names were Margret and Lee. I knew that with a hundred percent clarity, although I had no idea how.

As the coldness travelled through me, I activated my blood magic, using my own blood as a source, and grunted as the bones in my hand started to heal. I felt my body healing itself at a rate I'd never known before, my face and hands returning to their original state within seconds. Once I'd healed myself and deactivated my blood magic, I felt part of the coldness leave with it. I stood and rested momentarily against the wall behind me.

"Got your magic back?" Peter asked with a chuckle as he walked toward me. "You heal pretty damn fast, even for a sorcerer. But it won't help."

When I didn't reply, he punched me in the stomach, doubling me over, and slammed the back of my head into the wall. I dropped to the floor in a seated position. Peter grasped me around the throat and picked me off the ground, holding me against the wall as he squeezed my throat.

"No fight left in you?" he asked with a sickening grin.

"Can't fight," I wheezed. "Concentrating."

"On what?"

As Peter had kept his eyes on me, I'd created two spheres of air, much like the one I'd used on Randal, one in the palm of each hand, spinning them faster and faster with my fingers, until they were a blur.

"On this." I plunged both spheres into Peter's chest as white-hot rage exploded inside me. At first all I heard was Peter's laughter as the magic touched him and he squeezed tighter on my throat. And then the laughter was abruptly replaced with screams as the spheres tore into the flesh of his chest. He released his grip and staggered back, but I stayed with him as his screams were lost in the maelstrom of sound that the spheres created. Right up until the moment I released the magic.

The magic, needing to go somewhere, rushed into Peter like a tank hitting a wall. Peter was lifted from his feet and thrown across the room, through the wall behind him and into Olivia's office where he crashed against her desk.

I took a step forward to go after him and immediately saw Kasey. My rage was extinguished and I dropped to Kasey's side. "Hey," I said softly as she stirred.

"My arm hurts," she said, as she opened her eyes.

I called more blood magic and placed my hand on the arm she had cradled against her.

"That better?" I asked.

"I had to stay still when he threw me. I'm so sorry I didn't fight more."

I helped her back to her feet and made sure she was steady. "You stood up to a lich, Kasey. You are now officially the bravest person I know, but I've got it from here. Your dad is in the room at the end. He's hurt, but should be okay. You need to get him down the stairs and out of this building. No matter how badly he's hurt, you have to get him away from here."

Kasey walked toward the door. "Please stay safe," she said.

"I'll be fine," I told her. "Go see to your dad."

I watched Kasey leave the room and run off in Tommy's direction before I stalked toward the hole in the wall. I climbed through and continued into Olivia's office, which until a few minutes ago had been beautifully decorated. I allowed the cold rage inside me to come back, powered by the energy I'd absorbed from the two dead agents.

Peter was making a whimpering noise as he dragged himself out of the remains of Olivia's once large desk.

I waved my hand and fire leapt from it, striking Peter's legs and igniting the jeans he wore. Peter started to yell once more as the magic hurt him.

"Apparently, I'm not so helpless anymore," I said and kicked him in the ribs so hard that I felt them buckle under the blow.

Peter sucked in air and rolled onto his back, showing me the two large red holes in his chest. They’d stopped oozing his black, tar-like blood, but still showed raw muscle beneath the tattered remains of his shirt.

I dragged the battered lich to his feet and punched him in the jaw with everything I had. He dropped to one knee and I unleashed a flurry of kicks and punches, my hands and feet wrapped in dense air to do more damage as I drove Peter to the floor. I used the anger, the fear and hatred at what Peter and his friends had done to people I cared about to continue my assault until the lich’s face was a ruined mess of blood and flesh.